


Pink Umbrella Drinks

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Eureka
Genre: Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-10
Updated: 2007-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Get in the car," Jack says. "Both of you. Back seat. Josephine, open your window. Do not vomit in a city vehicle. Zoe, it's your responsibility to make sure she doesn't."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Umbrella Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works.

Zoe has two mommies. She has her mom, who isn't so much a part of her everyday life anymore, and she has S.A.R.A.H., who totally is. And then she has her dad, who puts the smothering in mothering and, yeah. Zoe has three mommies. Three really strict mommies.

What Zoe does not have is a best friend to listen to her complain and then cheer her up by taking her out to stare at boys and maybe do something slightly illegal. But Zoe does have Jo, and Jo could maybe fill that BFF spot in a pinch. In an unbelievably desperate pinch, which is exactly where Zoe is right this second.

"So," she says, dragging out the word while fanning copies of truly trashy teen magazines in front of her face. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Jo looks at the magazines, then Zoe, then at the door. "And, whatever it is, I'm sure your father would kill me if I encouraged it."

"Probably."

"Great." Jo grabs the magazines and hastily stuffs them in her desk drawer. "Then I'm in."

Zoe knew she would be. Jo's got this whole Defender-of-the-Law-While-Wearing-Slutty-Underwear thing going on, like she'd be happier if she could strip off her uniform, put lipsticky war paint on her face, and play with her guns. There'd probably be shouting, too. Lots of shouting. Jo's cool.

"I need to get out of here."

"Out of…" Jo lets that hang there, not filling in the blanks but not making it seem as if she doesn't know the answer.

"Eureka."

"You know we can't do that." Jo taps her short, square nails on the desk. "Well, I can, but there's no way you can."

"Why can't I?" This is what's been bugging her. Everyone, absolutely everyone, in this town knows her. She's not Zoe Carter to most of them, she's Jack Carter's daughter, and don't do anything bad in front of the sheriff's little girl or she might rat you out. It's total bullshit, because she would never, but they don't know that, so there's no fun for Zoe. "No fun for Zoe," she repeats.

"Jo? JO?"

"Is that my dad?"

Jo rolls her eyes. "Yes," she grunts. "It is."

"Because his voice is coming from somewhere under your butt."

"The radio's on the floor." Jo kicks it for emphasis. "I have put the radio on the floor under my chair because your father is driving me nuts."

"Oh," Zoe says, "you are so in."

* * *

It's like they're both in disguise. Zoe as someone who isn't the sheriff's daughter and Jo as someone who's just a little wilder than Zoe ever dreamed.

"My car," Jo says, long legs swinging beneath her short skirt.

"Um, your car is a cop car. We should take my car."

"Your car has a tracking device on it." Jo shakes her head when Zoe starts to complain. "Your dad, the sheriff, remember? Between him and S.A.R.A.H. you had to know you could be tracked."

"Oh my god! That's so wrong!"

"I said he could, not that he was."

"Then how do you know?" Zoe demands, because, seriously, this is not cool. It isn't like she's been doing anything--aside from plotting to sneak out of town with Jo--but he could at least trust her!

"Because I am," Jo says and smirks. "And you really need to stop doing sixty along Pinetree Road because the cows out there get loose and you could hurt yourself."

"Or them," Zoe mumbles, distracted. "Wait, no, why are you tracking me?"

"So your father doesn't have to." She guides Zoe toward her car, unlocking the door before going around to the driver's side. "Don't look at me like that. He didn't ask me to, and now he'll never have to. Besides, you could get into trouble. You don't know Eureka like I know Eureka."

True enough. "It's still sketchy," Zoe says. "Way sketch. You owe me something, _Deputy_ Jo."

"Like what?"

"I'll let you know when I come up with it."

"Whatever," Jo says and guns it out of the parking lot. Zoe isn't sure if this is going to be the best night ever or the worst, but she's damn sure it'll be better than another night in Geniusville. When Jo hits ninety within seconds of crossing the city line she sticks her head out the open window and screams her joy into the night. Jo joins her and together they howl like wolves on the prowl.

Awesome.

* * *

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"No," Jo says, and Zoe kicks her in the ankle, right alongside the zipper of her fancy knee-high boots.

"Ouch."

"She'd love a drink," Zoe says, leaning across Jo. "A nice, fruity drink." She dodges Jo's elbow and smiles. "Maybe one with an umbrella."

"I do not drink things with umbrellas," Jo says, as she turns around scowling. "And stop kicking my boots. They're new."

"I like them." Zoe admires the leather. "Pretty."

"I like your shoes." Jo nods her head at Zoe's sandals. "I can't wear those strappy things. I always feel like I can't run in them in case of emergency."

"And you can run in those things?" Seriously, those things are about four inches high and if Jo can run in them she's a far more skilled woman than Zoe had ever dreamed.

"Practice."

"Oh my god, you do, don't you?" She can picture it. "You totally put on those hot boots and run around at night."

"Preparation," Jo says.

"Dork," Zoe says.

"Ladies," the guy says, returning with two pink drinks with tons of fruit and, yep, little paper umbrellas. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Lost," Jo says, and Zoe knows right then and there that she's been sneaking drinks behind Zoe's back. She winks at the bartender when she calls him over. "Can I get a _virgin_ strawberry daquiri for my friend, here? She really shouldn't drink."

Jo plucks one of the umbrellas from the real drinks and sucks the pineapple and cherry off it, before dropping it into Zoe's non-alcoholic drink. "One of us has to drive," she says, downing half her 80-proof pink drink in one swallow. "And it sure as hell isn't going to be me."

"I am so not holding your hair when you puke."

"I don't puke," Jo says.

"You don't drink fruity drinks, either so we're in new territory here, aren't we, Deputy?"

"Whatever, Sheriff." Jo takes her by the arm and tugs. "Let's dance."

Zoe's done the faux-lesbian dance before, grinding up against her girlfriends in a giggling group, because, let's be honest, sometimes it's more fun to be sexy and loose with people you trust than with someone you know just wants to get into your pants. Jo, though, she's never done it, and she's having a good damn time, raising her arms over her head and moving to the thumping beat.

"You are so deprived," Zoe observes. "You have led a sheltered life."

"I've been busy."

"Busy being boring." They crash together and stumble, and Zoe looks down to see her gold sandal tangled with Jo's burgundy boot. "I think we'd better stop dancing."

Jo sticks out her lip when she pouts and that surprises Zoe. So does the "aw, c'mon" and the way her hips shimmy under her mini-dress. "One more song?"

One more leads to two more leads to them closing the place and fending off Pink-Drink Guy before the lights go up. "We have to go," Zoe says to scare him away. "Our dad will be mad."

"Dad?" Jo giggles. "He's my dad, too?"

"You know he so would be." Zoe giggles, too, as she's leading Jo out of the club and into the parking garage. "Can you hear his lecture?" She drops her voice. "Young ladies, what you did tonight was irresponsible. You could have been…"

"Hurt," her father says, from where he's leaning against Jo's cop car. "Or worse."

"Oh my god," Jo says, then she turns, takes two steps away from Zoe, and hurls all over someone's car.

"That was a Jag," her father says, like Jo has just done something horrible.

"Jo's an adult," Zoe says in their defense, though with Jo dry-heaving on her knees it isn't much of one. "And I'm sober. Stone cold sober, dad." She jingles the keys. "And I'm the one who's driving."

"You're also the one who snuck out without telling me."

"Jo didn't tell you!"

"Jo is my deputy, not my daughter." He scowls in Jo's direction when she tries to stand and falls against the car. "And she's in plenty of trouble for not telling me."

"Oh, god, I'm grounded," Jo says, then dissolves into giggles.

"Get in the car," Jack says. "Both of you. Back seat. Josephine, open your window. Do not vomit in a city vehicle. Zoe, it's your responsibility to make sure she doesn't."

 

* * *

"And what did we learn tonight?" Jack asks on the way home.

"You have tracking devices on my car and on Jo's cop car."

"Pink drinks make me vomit."

"Jo has secret hot boots."

"I'm gonna hurl again."

The brakes screech when Jack pulls over. "Not in the car!" he yells. "Not in the car!"

Zoe waits for the lecture when Jo gets back into the car, but it doesn't come.

"Tomorrow," Jack says, calmly and almost happily, "bright and early, when you are hungover, you are driving back here with me to pick up your car."

"Oh, god," Jo moans. "I'm going to die."

"Probably not, but you'll wish you had."

"What about Zoe?" she groans out. "Isn't she getting punished?"

"You should know better," Zoe mutters at the traitor. "You're older."

"She should," Jack says, "but you and I both know she had no idea what you were capable of. Anyway, you did know better."

"Hah!" Jo sticks out her tongue and Zoe backs away.

"Oh my god, mint."

"Can't. I'll puke."

"Vomit breath."

Jo claps her hands over her mouth and blushes bright red. "You so deserve to get punished."

"Grounded," Jack announces. "And also riding with Miss Hangover Two Thousand and Seven tomorrow. S.A.R.A.H. will wake you at, oh," he considers his watch, "five a.m."

Jo's still a little drunk when Jack pulls up in front of her house and she giggles into the window at Zoe after she gets out. "Worth it," she whispers, and Zoe has to agree.

Still, though, she's totally bringing mints tomorrow morning.


End file.
